


Home from Far Away

by NoahTN98



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Fenris (Dragon Age), Established Relationship, Fenris is Bad at Feelings, Fenris is angry with Hawke, Hawke after Weisshaupt, M/M, One Shot, Sarcastic Hawke, Top Hawke (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 08:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11733576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahTN98/pseuds/NoahTN98
Summary: Hawke returns from Weisshaupt to be greeted by a very angry elf, whose only response to intense emotion (without murdering the man) is sex.





	Home from Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Here Lies the Abyss, and after Hawke returns to Kirkwall from Weisshaupt.

Fenris had returned to Hightown some time ago. The Tevinter slavers were dead, their captives now free, and his job was done. He’d received the letter from Varric when he was on the road, stating that Garrett had gone to Weisshaupt to speak with the Wardens, since Stroud was dead and they had nobody else to inform them. Angry was not a word that Fenris could use to describe the emotion that he felt. The fact that Garrett had left, traveled to Orlais, and gone into the Fade with the Inquisitor, knowing full well that he could die, hurt Fenris in more ways than one. Did he not think that Fenris would find out? Did he not think about what Fenris would go through if he had died? All of these questions and emotions racked through his brain as he stared at the letter in his hands, sometimes wishing that he had never been taught to read, just so that he wouldn’t have to read this over and over.

He heard the familiar clicking of his door being unlocked with a key, standing, the letter held tightly in his hand. Slowly, he walked out to the main area to greet who he assumed to be Hawke coming through his door, waiting. Garrett finally opens the door, smiling widely as he sees Fenris is already there to greet him, the smile fading when he catches just how angry the elf appeared to be. “Fenris… I can explain…” He placed his bag and knives down, holding his hands up in defense as Fenris storms over.

“Did you not think I would find out? Did you not think to tell me where you were going beforehand? You could have been killed! You could have died in the Fade and I would never have known you were there unless Varric wrote to me!” He shoves the letter against Hawke’s chest. “Then you never wrote to me when you left to go to Weisshaupt! I didn’t know where you were. What if you didn’t come back, Hawke? Did you ever stop for second to think about that?”

“Fenris… Calm down. Please. Just for a moment.” Hawke says, cautious, gently cupping Fenris’ cheeks. He knew that the elf could flip on him at any moment, but he also knew when Fenris was close to crying. “Varric contacted me to help the Inquisition. The Venatori had hold on the Grey Wardens in the South, they were under Corypheus’ control. If you’d known that, you would have stopped me. You wouldn’t let me leave. Then where would we be? Probably in a situation a lot worse than this. But I’m here now, and I have no plans on leaving again any time soon. I’m so sorry, Fenris.”

“Never. Never do that to me again, Hawke.” Fenris growls, but drops his gaze, sagging against Hawke. Garrett’s arms wrap tightly around him, even as Fenris starts to hit the larger man’s chest hard through frustration. Eventually, he stops hitting, sobbing and gripping onto whatever fabric he can. “I hate you. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for never writing. I missed you so much, Garrett.” Fenris takes a shaky breath, shuddering as he does, lifting his head when he feels a finger hook under his chin.

“Forgive me. I could never leave you again.” Hawke brings his free hand up, wiping the tears from Fenris’ cheeks with his thumb. “I missed you more than you can know, Fenris. I’m staying this time, I promise.” He leans down, kissing the elf slowly, trying to calm him. It takes some time for Fenris to calm, and settle into the kiss, Garrett’s hands resting on his lower back. The kiss breaks, and Hawke smiles at the elf. “Would you be completely against it if I asked you to come back home?”

“No. I would like that. How did you know this is where I would be, though? Why do you still have the key?”

“Because I know you, Fenris. You would never wait around at home. You didn’t think I was coming back, and you wouldn’t want to be there in case I didn’t. Enough talk, though.” Hawke steps back, picking up his bag and knives, sorting himself out before offering Fenris his hand, understanding completely when Fenris doesn’t take it. He leads him out, and walks home with him, staying close. “How have you been keeping yourself? Being that close to Tevinter again can’t have been easy for you.”

“I’m okay, Garrett. I feel a lot better having done what I did. Before you ask, yes, I have been sleeping. Yes, I have been eating properly. But no, I have not stopped drinking, but I have not been getting overly drunk. Aveline insisted on making sure that I don’t drink too much.”

“Aveline has come to see you? That’s kind of her. Being with Donnic has changed her.”

“She was kind before she married Donnic, Hawke. You just annoyed her enough that she permanently hated you.”

Hawke laughs, and pulls the key to the estate from his pocket, opening the door. He lets Fenris in first, closing the door behind him. He places his belongings down by the door, and watches the elf brood for a moment, backing up when he starts to move quickly towards him again. “What did I do-” He grunts when he’s cut off by a pair of lips, Fenris pushing him against the wall. His hands instinctively cup Fenris’ cheeks, doing all he can to slow the pace the elf was pushing, giving into him after some long moments of wrestling for control. This happened every time they were apart. It was the only way Fenris knew how to show just how much he missed Garrett, despite having a gentler side to him, something Garrett rarely saw, but thoroughly enjoyed when he did. Fenris lifts a leg, and Hawke catches on, lifting the smaller man up. Legs wrap around his waist, an arm draping over his shoulder, and a hand finding it’s way into his hair, and Hawke’s hands find themselves resting on Fenris’ ass.

“You have been away for far too long. That is completely unacceptable.” Fenris says between kisses. “So we’re going to your bedroom, I’m going to show you how much I missed you, and you’re going to make it up to me.”

“I could always just have you against this wall, you know. You’re perfectly positioned, after all.” Hawke grins, his expression dampening when Fenris simply glares at him. “Alright. Bedroom it is, then.”

Hawke walks Fenris to the bedroom, his head tilted as the elf assaults his throat with kisses, deliberately squeezing his ass in approval. He drops him down on the bed, smirking at the small ‘Kaffas’ that comes from the elf when he hits the mattress, wasting no time in crawling up the bed and holding himself over Fenris. However, Fenris has different ideas, gripping Hawke’s shoulders and flipping the larger man onto his back. “I said I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”

“Fenris, you know that I don’t bottom unless-”

“You’re not going to. There is nothing for you to worry about.” Fenris says, idly working Hawke out of his armor, tossing it aside. His hands roam, fingers tracing both the old and new scars on his lover’s chest, relearning the body of the man he hadn’t seen for months. Rarely did Hawke experience Fenris being so gentle, but rarely was there the need for intimacy as deep as this. “Does it hurt?” The elf asks, gently brushing his finger over a scar that could be no more than a month old.

“It only aches. A group of bandits thought that it would be clever to attack me on my way through Nevarra. I thought it best to avoid the Imperium, especially with everything that was happening at the time.” Hawke explains, watching Fenris dip down and kiss across his chest. “I think you would be a lot more comfortable if you removed your armor, Fenris.”

With that, Fenris sat back, and began to remove his armor. He worked off the top half, his hand running over his chest to soothe the slight chill, his lyrium tattoos letting off a dim glow. Deliberately, he rolls his hips, Hawke’s arousal firm against his ass. His leather trousers grow uncomfortable, his own arousal building, licking his lips when Hawke’s hands work on removing the material. He shifts, pushing the trousers down, letting them fall off the bed with the rest of his armor.

“I see you still enjoy going bare, Fenris.”

“Old habits die hard, Hawke. You yourself aren’t wearing any small-clothes.” Fenris says, then tenses when Garrett’s hands hover near the tattoos. All movement ceases, giving Fenris the time he needs, the elf nodding slowly when he’s okay to be touched. Fenris’ position on Hawke’s body changes once again, nestling Hawke’s cock against the curve of his ass, giving him free reign to rock against it. “The oil, please.”

Hawke obliges, reaching into his bedside drawer, handing Fenris the pot of oil. Soft groans escape with each roll of Fenris’ hips, the tip of his cock leaking small amounts of precum and smearing against Fenris’ ass. The oil is placed aside when one of Fenris’ fingers is appropriately slicked, the elf reaching back, lifting his hips, and rubbing against the taut hole. “I have spent many nights missing you, wishing and waiting to see you again. Nights alone… Imagining you were there with me…” His tone is husky, faltering for a moment as he presses his finger into himself, dropping his head forward. “Now that I have you here, I am not letting you leave me again.”

A large hand slides over Fenris’ hip, and down to his ass, groping and kneading the firm muscle. How he had missed seeing this, seeing Fenris open himself up for him. His free hand moves down, wrapping around the elf’s abandoned shaft, stroking him, slow and careful, just the way Fenris liked it. Hawke watches as Fenris’ face contorts, at both the heightened pleasure and his stretching entrance, raising his eyebrow when he hears a small, almost inaudible moan of his name.

“Hawke… Kaffas…” Fenris’ hand curls into a fist on Hawke’s chest, slipping another finger into himself after some time. His head drops forward, his hair falling over his face, considerably longer in the last few months. His gaze travels up and meets Hawke’s, his lips parted just enough for his small pants to be heard.

Hawke’s hand continues to move, each stroke of his hand punctuated by a brief slide of his thumb over Fenris’ tip, and a moan from the elf himself. He stops, however, when his wrist is gripped. Knowing exactly what Fenris was about to do, Hawke moves his hand to hold Fenris’ ass with the other hand, lifting the elf. Fenris reaches back, aligning the tip of Hawke’s cock with his entrance, and slowly slides down, taking him in. His hands move to Hawke’s chest to hold balance, fingernails scratching his skin at the slight sting of the intrusion. The guttural groans that come from both men causes Fenris’ cock to twitch, holding still when Hawke is fully sheathed inside of him.

“Fenris…” Hawke moves his hands from the elf’s ass, and up his sides, over his chest, and down again, resting on his hips. “Fuck…”

“Such language.” The elf teases, his hands sliding down to rest at the bottom of Hawke’s chest, his hips starting to lift and roll. “Nothing feels as good as having you home, Hawke.” Fenris groans, watching Hawke smirk at the double entendre, getting a suitable response of ‘nothing feels as good as being home’ from the man, coaxing a soft chuckle from Fenris.

Fenris gradually starts moving his hips harder, riding the man underneath him, his lyrium tattoos glowing faintly with the growing arousal. Hawke’s fingers slide over the tattoos on his side, noting the warmth being emitted from them. His back was arched, and his head dropped back, a thin sheet of sweat coating both men. Hawke shifted his legs, bending them, planting his feet firmly on the bed. The simple movement allowed him to push his hips up to meet Fenris’ hips, something the elf seemed to enjoy, if him reaching back and gripping his knees for leverage was anything to go by. Hawke takes Fenris’ cock back into his hand, his grip loose, the rocks of their hips providing enough movements to stroke him without any real effort.

The room fills with groans, pants, and curses. Fenris drops down, kissing Hawke, the movements of his hips starting to become jagged and untidy. Hawke drops his legs, breaking away from the kiss momentarily to bite and kiss Fenris’ ears. “I’m going to roll you under me, Fenris. Is that okay?” Hawke asks, knowing from experience that this was the best way to do this, especially if he wanted to avoid having an elf freak out from being suddenly underneath him. He waits patiently until Fenris gives him a gentle nod, carefully rolling over so that Fenris is under him, the elf wrapping his legs around Hawke’s waist. He lowers himself down, resting on his elbows, sliding his fingers through the white hair, moving his hips with the same force as Fenris had held. He grips Fenris’ hair lightly, tilting his head back to kiss along his throat, coaxing throaty groans from the man. He shivers as a hand slides up his back, and nails drag down his spine, a clear indication that Fenris wanted him to move harder.

Hawke happily obliges, a hand moving down and pushing back one of Fenris’ legs, his movements growing harder. The elf moans loudly, his back arching beautifully as Hawke pushes himself back just enough, the angle causing light to bounce off the thin layer of sweat on Fenris’ chest. Hawke rests the leg over his shoulder, his arm hooking around it as he leans back down, both hands planted either side of Fenris’ head. He smirks at the ‘fasta vass…’ that slips Fenris’ lips, the elf’s previously furious face now soft and lost in pleasure. Hawke grunts, shuddering as precum spills from him, another grunt coming from him as his head is pulled down to meet Fenris’. Sloppy kisses are exchanged between heavy pants, Hawke’s hips pressing and adjusting to brush his stomach over Fenris’ cock with each thrust, the heat of both arousal and the lyrium heavy on his skin.

“Garrett…” Fenris moans, his head dropping to the side, tilting back to expose his throat. “Oh, Maker… More…”

“Fuck the Maker…” Hawke grumbles, dipping his head to bite at Fenris’ throat, his hand moving to push his other leg back and over his shoulder. It was rare that Fenris would allow Hawke to have him in such a position, despite having been together for over seven years now, and Maker, did he look good. Hawke leans back, rested on his knees, his hands sliding down Fenris’ side and to his ass, holding his hips up as he only moves harder, each thrust punctuated with a groan from each man.

Fenris’ hands grip whatever they can, landing in the sheets and on the pillow. With his lyrium tattoos glowing brighter, he tenses, Hawke’s name repeatedly slipping his lips. His mouth hangs open, a strangled gasp coming from him as he reaches release, spilling over his chest and abdomen. “Kaffas… Hawke…” He pants out. Not too long after, Hawke finds his own release, spilling into his lover with a loud, husky groan of his name. All movement ceases for what seemed like hours, slow pants as they gradually regain their composure.

Eventually, Hawke pulls out, placing Fenris’ legs on the bed, and goes to his pockets, pulling out the only clean rag he had left. With gentle kisses to any patch of skin he can reach, he cleans his lover up, smirking when the brush of his beard against Fenris’ skin makes the elf laugh. He disposes of the rag, and lays on the bed with Fenris, wrapping an arm around him, keeping him close.

“I love you, Hawke. Even when you put yourself in danger, and never write to me. If you ever leave again, I will personally hunt you down and drag you home.” Fenris says, his fingers tracing over the scars on Garrett’s chest again.

“I love you too, Fenris. Don’t worry about me leaving, Kirkwall is a shithole, but I could never leave you behind.” He pauses, and then smirks. “Say, for someone who wanted control, you really were quite submissive.” He laughs, hissing when Fenris scratches him.

“Shut up, Hawke."


End file.
